


Every Now and Then

by JustAPassingGlance



Series: Every Now and Then [1]
Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-13
Updated: 2017-08-28
Packaged: 2018-12-14 16:42:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11787213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustAPassingGlance/pseuds/JustAPassingGlance
Summary: Just some drabbles set in a world where Blaine and Sebastian went to school together, Sebastian is 3rd in line to the throne, and Blaine becomes the first gay Prime Minister of their country.





	1. Now

**Celebration**

It was just a voice. Less than that, even. A recording of a voice.

A message left on his personal line. Two words, “Congratulations, Blaine” and that was it. One of, frankly, hundreds of calls he had received in a twelve-hour span.

Just that. Just two words. No name. No number. Just “Congratulations, Blaine.”

He would have known that voice anywhere. Like the rest of the country, he knew what that voice sounded like on the air, giving another interview on radio or television. But he also knew what that voice sounded like when it was whispering in his ear, shouting across a playing field, filling up a car with song.

There was a time when he had known that voice better than he knew his own.

Of all the people who had said it to him, that voice saying it meant the most to him.

“Congratulations, Blaine.”

 

**Figurehead**

Blaine was proud of everything he was and everything that he had done. He had worked long and hard to get to where he was, no matter what some people said about things “just falling serendipitously into his lap”. There was luck, sure, but mostly it had been a long, hard slog.

But for everything he was and everything he stood for, some many people were still willing to distill it all down to one thing.

Gay.

(Or some variation thereof, in differing degrees of politeness, depending on the source.)

Regardless of whether people liked him or hated it, it was generally the first thing they noted about him.

What do you like about him? He’s gay, and also his policies.

Why don’t you like him? He’s homosexual, and also have you heard his stance on…

He was proud for it to be his legacy. That he could inspire other people, of all ages, as the First Gay Prime Minister of the country. He cherished every single letter he had received throughout his career telling him that he had given someone the courage to come out, to run for office, to be honest with themselves (even when they couldn’t be with anyone else).

It was only sometimes that it wore on him, until he wanted the throw open the window and shout out to the world that he was so much more than his sexuality. That it was his ideals that made him Prime Minister and not who he was attracted to.

 

**Approval Rating**

Not taking things personally had never been Blaine’s strongest suit. He understood on a purely intellectual level that things like opinion polls and approval ratings didn’t have to mean anything; that half the times they were more reflective of people’s moods and the media’s reporting than of his actual performance as an elected official.  

There was, for example, the week his rating had shot up by 2% after pictures emerged of him on a run with his dog and the week where it had gone down because he had been sick and in a rush and had given a too-snappy comment to the 3,000th idiotic question that a reporter had asked him that day.

They weren’t, by themselves, indications of his ability (or lack thereof) to do his job and serve his constituents, which is what really mattered.

But it still stung to see his numbers drop. He had gotten into politics to be different from all the other politicians who care more about their own interests than the interests of the people. He wanted to stand up for all the people who felt like they didn’t have a voice, not yell louder on behalf of those who were already screaming.

It felt like failing; he was failing the very people who had entrusted him to help and serve them. He was failing the people who never had any faith in him but whose voices still mattered, even if he didn’t always agree with what they were saying.

 

**Garden, Propriety, Estrangement, Approval**

Even after thirteen years, Blaine was still surprised by the amount of parties that being in politics involved. At the holidays he had expected, and he wasn’t surprised by the wining and dining of foreign dignitaries, but the sheer number of spring galas and summer soirees he was invited to and expected to attend sometimes made him wonder how anything in politics ever got done.

He had, at least this year, been able to get away with nothing more than a cursory appearance at most of them, begging off a longer commitment due to the burdens of his new position.

The Princess’ annual Garden Party was the exception. The party was, according to the papers, rapidly establishing itself as The Party of the year, much to the displeasure of the Queen whose New Year’s Masquerade was becoming “tired”, and everyone who mattered was there. Blaine had already spent almost two hours shaking hands and making small talk and he hadn’t even seen half of the people his team had told him he couldn’t leave without at least greeting.

Sneaking off to the catering tent, he knew, was a calculated risk. It would probably mean having to spend longer at the party but he was starving and the last thing he needed was the papers reporting that he had passed out less than three months after taking office.

"Prime Minister, I didn't except to see you here," Sebastian's voice said from somewhere just behind him, laced with clearly exaggerated surprise. Even without turning around, Blaine knew Sebastian's eyes were wide in faux-innocence and his lips were pursed in a teasing line. "Thought you'd be too busy running the country." 

Blaine carefully picked out another canape. "You should have Rosie check the guest list next time," he replied shrugging. 

The older couple filing up their own plates across the table from him discretely nudged each other before turning away to whisper between themselves and Blaine could practically count the hits to all the news articles that would be screaming about the lack of respect the newly-elected PM had for the monarchy. 

He whipped around almost too quickly, causing Sebastian to freeze in surprise, before inclining his head in the customary bow that he had made him practice nearly 500 times over the last few months. "Your-" 

"Oh, fucking. Fuck, Blaine," Sebastian visibly cringed and yanked Blaine's chin up so they were looking at each other. "You don't have to...  You know you've never had to."

It had, for a time, been the only rule (when they were fifteen and Sebastian had been at the height of eschewing all the other rules); they didn’t bow to him. They never bowed to him, never addressed him by his titles, or followed any of the other niceties his life had saddled him with.

"We're not kids anymore," he said, feeling just an uncomfortable as Sebastian. "A lot has changed."

“You’re—”

“The Prime Minister. And you’re my prince.” Blaine bowed his head and smiled tightly, realizing that somewhere along the way that was what they had become to each other and trying to pinpoint when that had happened.

Sebastian stood up straighter and his face shifted to a look of neutral politeness. It was a look Blaine had seen a million times but not one he could ever remember being on the receiving end of.

“My father looks forward to working with you,” Sebastian said formally. “He is intrigued by many of your ideas and thinks the way you’ve inspired the youth of our nation is promising for our future.”

Blaine smiled politely. The King had never been an overwhelming figure in their lives, even less then the many other parents whose reality amounted to little more than guest appearances at the beginning and end of each semester, but Blaine had heard about him from Sebastian and his sister to assume that he was probably close to the last choice of who their father wanted to be running the country.

“I was glad you called,” Blaine said. “It meant a lot. To hear from you.”

“It was a proud moment for our country. And,” he dropped his voice to a whisper. “for all of Us. And… I always knew you had it in you.”

Blaine smiled again, this time warm and genuine. “I know you did. That day it felt like everyone I had ever met was calling me to tell me they always knew I could do it. You always believed in me. And I’ve never forgotten that.”


	2. Then

**Crown**

Sebastian was third in line for the throne. It was a comfortable position for him. Ruling, he thought, wouldn’t really be his thing. Maybe a few centuries before, when the position also came with an appreciable degree of power, it would have been more intriguing to him. In this day and age, however, it was more about diplomacy, smiling pretty for the camera, being seen at all the right moments, and keeping ones opinions to one’s self.

The only thing that chaffed was that his twin sister, Quinn, had been extracted from their mother mere minutes before him; making her older and one step closer to the throne.

Between his brother and sister, and whatever offspring they might yield, it was unlikely that he would ever ascend the throne. So on the whole it didn’t matter what he did.

There were, of course, a few expectations on him. Most important in that list, the appearance that he wasn’t ‘a goddamn queer,’ as his father had so artfully put it.

It might have been because of this secret that he was allowed so many of his other indiscretions. Or maybe it was just a mark of how little everyone else actually cared.

Either way it suited him. It allowed him the freedom of his title and his money, without most of the responsibility that would have otherwise accompanied it. He made sure he wasn’t a complete disgrace, not wanting to be the laughing stock of the country like his great uncle had been, but making minimal concessions otherwise.

 

**Curfew**

Their first kiss had happened while they were drunk, breaking curfew, and following a “low key” episode of trespassing and vandalism.

Blaine hadn’t participated in the vandalism and had refused to listen to any of the specifics of the plan. From the sounds coming from the others’ backpacks as they ran, it involved spray paint. But he had stood as look out, a compromise he had come to with himself because he knew they were more likely to get into trouble without him.

Sebastian, for his part, insisted it wasn’t breaking and entering because the park they were trespassing in belonged to the crown.

There was no getting around the underage drinking or the breaking of curfew. But youthful exuberance permitted those things.

They had been running away, hand in hand, at the hissed warning that “someone is coming. Someone is coming.”

Eventually they realized that no one was coming—that it had just been a false alarm—but they still hid, crouched in a clump of bushes, breathing hard.

“Blaine,” Sebastian had said.

“Blaine,” Sebastian had said again, no moaned, against Blaine’s lips as Blaine’s head spun from more than just the combination of vodka and physical exertion.

**Official**

The way It had worked (whatever It was and whenever It was happening) was in unofficial official secrecy. 

Had Blaine been older when it all had started, perhaps he would have protested. But as it was, he had only just come (limitedly) out of the closet himself and was torn between not wanting to force Sebastian out, a painful understanding of what it would mean for Sebastian if he were out beyond the realms of their own desire, and strong repulsion against being forced back in himself.

If it had all started later it probably would have caused a tension that never ended up happening because they were both too young to know any different and it was just the way that they worked. 

And besides, secrecy at the end of the day was probably too narrow a word to put on something that was known to so many people. But the theory was there. That it was something entirely secret and to be kept from the world at large. 

In practice what it ended up looking like was no public displays of affection and only their closest and most trusted friends knowing for sure. Sebastian wasn’t the hand-holding type anyways but still more than half the school had a strong suspicion that there was something going on behind closed doors (or in darkened alcoves, the trap room under the stage, and 4 times in the forested area just below the playing fields) anyways.

 

**Class President**

Blaine’s first taste of politics had been running for class president. He had, as Sebastian put it, “been getting all hot under the collar” about cutbacks to the art and music department and lack of healthy meal options served in the dining hall and after one rant too many, Theo had finally snapped at him to “do something to change it then.” 

So he ran for president and he won. By a landslide. 

And he and Sebastian had the biggest fight of their friendship as it became obvious that person after person had only voted for him because he was one of Sebastian’s best friends.

It had been a spectacular fight which involved 10 shouting matches, 3 incidents that required people to physical separate them, and spanned all 14 of the school’s buildings which the students had access to (and 1 which they didn’t).

It had eventually been resolved by their friends forcing them into “couples counseling”, which consisted of them being locked in a room together for five hours until they had “talked everything out.” Which had eventually happened after Sebastian spent thirty straight minutes yelling about treason and how he would have everyone who could hear him (and all of their families) brought to justice as accessories to kidnapping and false imprisonment.

 

**Poster**

The problem with Sebastian’ birthday was that getting gifts for him was impossible. As a prince of the country (even if he was the youngest) most of what he wanted was given to him for free. And what wasn’t given to him he bought at the slightest impulse. While all of them were, to a rather greater extent, cavalier with money, Sebastian considered it nothing more than an eccentric quirk of society. 

Still, the five of them made it a rule that they would always get him something as part of their ongoing effort to separate Prince Sebastian from their friend Sebastian. 

Looking smug, Michael pulled his (still unwrapped) gift out from underneath his bed. “Blaine, I think you’re next up on the roommate rotation after I die, so good luck to you. Because he’s going to kill me for this,” he said confidentially.

It was a poster of the cover of a magazine with a picture of Robert, the crown prince walking, shirtless, on a beach and proclaiming him the hottest royal in the world. 

“All the girls at my sister’s school have this in their rooms. I think it would look good in here.” Michael said brightly, gesturing to an empty space on their wall.

“It’s been great knowing you,” David said seriously. “We’ll say something nice at the funeral.”

 

**Abdicate**

“Have you ever thought about it?” Blaine asked, on day in their university years, when they were supposed to be studying for exams.

The major flaw in their plan had been picking Sebastian’s as a study spot and not somewhere like the library. They had studied a little, in between rounds of sex. Rewards, Sebastian teased, for Blaine answering questions correctly.

“Thought about what?” Sebastian asked. “What we just did? Because I feel like I’ve made it pretty clear over the years that I think about it a lot.”

Blaine shoved his shoulder playfully and flushed from his chest up to his face. All of which Sebastian could see because, after the second round, they hadn’t bothered with more than putting on underwear.

“No. Of giving up your claim to the throne.”

Sebastian blinked at the non sequitur. “Why on earth would I do that?”

“So,” Blaine hesitated. “So you don’t have to hide anymore. You know…” he gestured to their combined pile of clothes on the floor.

As they got older the secrecy of their relationship became more and more a point of contention. They had potential, they both knew but Blaine could never spend his life hiding and Sebastian was only just not selfish enough to ask him to.

“I haven’t given it much thought,” he replied, shrugging only his left shoulder, which meant that he had thought about it. He had considered and weighed his options and decided that he it wasn’t worth it. That whatever future he could have with Blaine wasn’t worth it.

“Oh,” Blaine responded. Surprised by unsurprised he was by the response. “Just something I was thinking about.” He waved his book between them, as though it had been what had given him the idea.

 

**Love  
**

From the start, it had been easy to love him, even despite Sebastian’s best efforts because, if there was one thing that 13-year-old Sebastian was resistant to it was the idea of being loved. He had spent his childhood being fawned over and by the time he turned 12 he had decided he wanted to leave a very different sort of mark on the world.

But soon, almost embarrassingly so, Blaine had loved him for Sebastian. He continued to love, as a part of him had always done, the Sebastian that postured before the rest of the world but even more deserving of his affection was the boy who claimed he already had everything and didn’t need anything from Blaine.

By the end of university, Sebastian had mostly grown out of the worst of his habits. He had started to accept and settle into his role in the monarchy and if he hadn’t yet accepted the responsibility that came with it, he acknowledged it was waiting for him and, at least publicly, began to conform his actions to it.

And through it all, Blaine had loved him. He loved all the shades and facets of him.

Sebastian was the first person that Blaine had ever loved, in any and every sense of the word, that he wasn’t related to. He knew, even at 13, that that love would last for his entire life.   


	3. And Again

**Relaxation**

From the ages of 16 to 22, three weeks of every summer were spent drunk and sun drenched on the deck of David’s yacht, sailing around the coast of whatever country had tickled their fancy at the time, much to the disgust of Blaine’s father who liked to pretend they were much (much) more working class then they were.

It was grotesquely extravagant and Blaine hadn’t wanted to go at first. But it turned out to be weeks of heaven; just the six of them (plus three of Sebastian’s bodyguards), free from prying eyes, and barely a care between them.

 

**Escape**

 “Freedom,” Sebastian said during their second trip, “Freedom on the open seas. Like pirates. But with a better selection of alcohol available.” He giggled to himself, barely able to stand upright between the rocking of the waves and the copious vodka he had consumed.

They spent the next four hours chasing each other, playing pirates. Blaine managed to fashion them eye patches and they broke down broom handles to serve as swords.

It was all fun and games until Sebastian fell down the stairs and broke his arm in two places.

Freedom, Blaine decided after that, should have some limitations.   

 

**Swimming**

“Come on,” Sebastian insistently nudged Blaine awake. “Let’s go.”

Blaine shifted, nearly rolling off the couch he had apparently fallen asleep on. “’M sleeping,” he mumbled as he batted at Sebastian’s hand.

“No. We’re going swimming.”

Giving in, Blaine pushed himself up on is elbows so he could scowl at Sebastian. “It’s late and Theo will kill me if I wake him up to get my bathing suit from our room.”

“Who said anything about bathing suits?”

In the time it took Blaine to process Sebastian’s words, he was already scampering away, leaving a trail of clothing in his wake.

 

**Thunder**

Reluctantly, Blaine let himself be dragged above deck. The storm, according to the others, wasn’t actually a bad one and was “way off in the distance” but he had felt a lot safer not standing out in the middle of it.

The rain drenched them and angry waves caused the yacht to rock back and forth.

 “Look,” Sebastian said, lacing their fingers together and pointing towards the shore as a low rumble of thunder sounded.

Suddenly, a jagged bolt of lightning lit up the sky, illuminating a hillside town; a moment so breathtakingly beautiful that Blaine forget to be scared.

 

**Golf**

Inexplicably, Sebastian’s third favorite summer hobby (after sex with Blaine and watching Blaine tan) was “playing golf”. It was a sport he solidly ignored for the rest of the year but would spend hours on the putting green and hitting balls into the water.

He was, by his own confession, pretty terrible at it. Aiming, really, was his major downfall. He claimed it took too much time and effort to actually direct the ball where he would have wanted it to go and it was much easier to just give it a hit and let it go where it would.

 

**Humidity**

“Not that I’m complaining,” Blaine pouted, “but couldn’t we should at least consider going somewhere less tropical next year?” Every morning that week had had engaged in an hour-long battle with his hair, hoping to find the exact right combination of products to keep the worst of the frizz and the curls at bay for at least half the day. 

“You realize you’re asking me to give up 3 weeks of openly ogling your ass in those obscene things you call swim shorts? You better prepare one hell of a pitch if you want to sway me to your side.”

 

**Camping**

“Let’s go camping,” Sebastian announced one afternoon.

“In the middle of the Ionian?” Blaine looked lazily at the water surrounding them on all four sides.

Sebastian took another swig of beer and mulled over the options. “Yes,” he decided with a sharp nod.

“I would like to state for the record that this is probably a terrible idea.”

Waving a dismissive hand, Sebastian disappeared and was gone for so long that Blaine hoped he had been distracted by something else. When he eventually re-emerged it was with a huge float and a tent that he had found god-only-knows-where.

“Terrible idea.”

 

**Summer Love/Summer Fling**

Over the years their relationship changed. Sometimes they were serious, sometimes they weren’t. They never broke up but they weren’t always together either. There were other guys, although none of them every lasted for too long or meant very much in the long run.

They were nebulous and flexible, according to Blaine, who thought “nebulous” made it sound more romantic. According to Sebastian they were “seriously committed to not being committed”, which came accompanied by at least 5 jokes about whether or not Sebastian should be committed somewhere.

But every summer they had 21 days where they disconnected from the rest of the world and Sebastian shed his royal title and they could just be them.

 _I love you_ s were too serious for the rest of the year and a relationship that was doomed to end before it had even begun. The feeling was there (far more obviously than it should have been, to anyone who ever looked and they were lucky that no one ever really did) and for 344 days of the year knowing it was enough.  

For three weeks every year they whispered _I love you_  underneath starry skies and breathed the words onto each other’s skin.  


End file.
